Tales From the North
by MairaElleth
Summary: …Go to the North. There is a member of the Dúnedain you should meet… Legolas follows his father's advice, only to find something, or better yet, someone, that he did not expect. What awaits the Elven Prince when he finds his life has taken a new turn? Post BOTFA, before the events of LOTR.
1. Chapter 1

**2941, Third Age**

 _…_ _Go to the North. There is a member of the Dúnedain you should meet…_

Snowflakes blew against his skin, their edges feeling like small icy daggers. Blue eyes squinted against the blowing snow, and blonde locks whipped in the wind. The elements though did not hinder the silent traveler and he steadily marched onward, away from heartache, away from home.

 _…_ _Your mother loved you Legolas, more than anything. More than life itself…_

Though meant to be words of love, never had the elf prince felt so much pain. It was what was left unsaid that was the most painful and Legolas grit his teeth as he remembered the cold disappointment in his father's eyes. Many days and nights had passed since then, though it did not wash the pain away. Elves were immortal and their pain was as well. Legolas did not know if he could ever go back.

Stopping, Legolas shielded his eyes against the snow. The blizzard he stood in would have frozen a mortal by now, though the elf merely felt the cold against his skin without its crippling effects. As his eyes focused on the horizon, past time and distance, he could see the edge of the storm and thanked the Valar he would soon be out of the dizzying swirl of snow. Though his elven senses were sharp, he could not compete against the savage winds that covered all sound and threw icy flakes in his vision like knives. It made the elf Prince nervous to not be able to hear if he was being followed and his eyes constantly swung from side to side, scanning the whiteness for any signs of hostile life. He had encountered several small bands of orcs on his journey; they had been weak and he had dispatched them easily. Their defeat upon the foothills of Erebor had dealt the northern orcs a great blow.

 _…_ _Erebor…_

Legolas thought upon that mountain bitterly and he pushed the great battle from his mind.

He continued to walk, keeping his eyes on the horizon. Soon, the snow had stopped swirling and drifted from the sky lazily in large, fat flakes. The scenery about him would have been beautiful if he were in a brighter mood. A sardonic smile tugged at the corners of Legolas' mouth.

 _She would have loved to see the mountains fresh with snow._

Legolas growled in frustration, pushing the image of fire-red hair and dancing green eyes from his mind. His father said to go north, and north he went. He wondered if she had been forgiven by Thranduil and let back into the kingdom. Legolas shook his head in answer to his musings. No, Thranduil was not one to go back on his word.

Onward Legolas walked. For a moment, as the sun sat between cloud and horizon, Legolas reveled in its light. But it quickly sank away and washed Legolas' path in darkness. The snowy clouds still remained, blocking all light from the stars and moon. It was not a hindrance to the elf though, and as the wind ceased it's blowing, his sharp eyes saw the landscape in bright detail.

The passage of time meant nothing to Legolas and as the sun rose over the peaks of the mountains, Legolas welcomed its light. He did not see the need to stop in the night and knew that he could march another full day without needing to rest. Just past mid-morning, Legolas felt the path beneath him begin to run downhill and he knew he was close. There was rumored to be a Dúnedain outpost upon the other side of the mountains. That would be his quickest way to find this ranger, Strider.

Another day came and went, and by nightfall, Legolas had reached the foothills of the mountains. His heart lightened some as the ground leveled out and he found a small cave to spend a night in rest. His meditations though were dark and brooding. Unable to gain the rest he desired, the elf-prince left his shelter and continued to walk. By the time the sun rose high enough to shine over the retreating peaks of the mountains, Legolas had covered much ground. A forest of pine trees covered the feet of the mountains and the elf welcomed their calm presence. He could feel the tree's surprise at his coming and every-so-often, a branch of soft needles would dip to brush across his face. Legolas wondered at the tree's evident affection for him until the sun began to set and the elf felt the looming shadow grow.

 _Climb Prince!_ A soft voice whispered urgently. Legolas took hold of the branches of the nearest pine, pulling himself quickly into its needled arms. Legolas wondered what was passing by as the tree wove its branches around him and he watched silently through the suddenly still needles. It did not take him long to hear what frightened the trees.

Cracking boughs and heavy feet signaled the oncoming orcs before Legolas heard their harsh language bouncing off the trees.

"I smell somthin' rotten; sickening sweet like elf meat," a rough voice grated through the trees and Legolas felt his adrenaline begin to rush through his veins.

"I don't care what you smell; I've had enough of those filthy wretches to last my life and I don't care if I ever see another. Blasted elves and their sharp blades," a higher pitched voice complained. Legolas strained his eyes to see through the trees, hoping there were only a few of the creatures. He knew his quiver was long empty and he reached to his back to make sure his now-single knife was in place.

"They've called all the wanderers to Gundabad and that's where we go, smelly elves or not," a third voice intoned. A rumbling mutter of assent floated through the trees and Legolas could not tell how many orcs there truly were beside the three. The orcs then fell silent save for the stomping of their feet and Legolas watched as their dark shapes finally walked beneath his tree. He felt the branches tighten around him and he drew in a steady breath. One of the orcs made a sound of disgust and stopped beneath the tree.

"I'm tellin' you, there's an elf nearby!" the orc spat on the ground and looked up into the tree's branches. Legolas sat as still as a statue, his only movement the involuntary swallow of disgust as the orc's rancid smell wafted up to him. He knew the orcs matched elves when it came to sight in the dark and Legolas could almost feel the eyes of the orcs upon him.

"I smell it too," Another orc said, stepping next to its companion. Legolas heard a growl ahead of the two dallying orcs and he watched a tall shadow join the pair.

"I smell nothing, flâgît!" the tallest orc growled, grabbing the smallest of the pair and throwing them away from the tree. The smaller orc yelped and leaped up but did not attack the larger orc.

"There is an elf, Pizdur," the sniffing orc said, leaning on his hands against the trunk of the pine tree. Legolas felt the tree begin to shudder under the orc's touch and he put his hands upon the trunk of the tree, willing it to be still.

"Fine!" the largest orc snapped. Legolas heard the creak of a bowstring and the twang as the orc sent an arrow into the depths of the tree. Legolas barely had time to move out of the arrow's way and he unsheathed his knife and leaped from the tree, landing atop the smallest orc. It died without a fight and Legolas turned as the other two rushed at him. He slashed the sniffer orc across the throat before it brought its blade down upon his head. The other, Pizdur, stood back and Legolas knew it was no normal orc. It stood nearly a head taller than him and its body was wrapped in sinewy muscle. The only sign of surprise was that the orc grunted. It did not seem to care that Legolas had killed the other two orcs with him. Legolas stared at the tall orc, his blue eyes locked with the orc's yellow eyes. The Orc was almost passively indifferent to Legolas' sudden arrival.

"Those cursed twins sent you, didn't they? They killed my favorite _kruflob_!"

The orc lunged at Legolas then, and he rolled away from the orc's attack, feeling the frozen ground shake as the beast's blade struck the earth behind him. As he sprang up, Legolas slashed at the orc's legs, catching it along one of its hamstrings. The orc bellowed and fell heavily upon the ground. Legolas leaped upon the orc and stabbed his knife into its chest.

"Curse you, you and all the tarks," the orc spat. Legolas pulled his knife from the orc's chest, slicing its throat and ending its agony. The moon managed to break through the clouds and a weak beam of light filtered through the trees, landing on the slain orc's face. The brand of Gundabad stood out in a raised scar on its cheek, and Legolas stood quickly, images of icy ruins and death flashing through his mind. When he turned though, another shadow stood before him and the press of steel was upon his neck.

"You should be warier in these lands,"

Suddenly, a torch blazed and Legolas squinted his eyes against the orange light. Before him stood an elf; the elf's hair was dark and his eyes were silver-grey. He wore armor and upon his breastplate was a shining star.

"What have you found brother?" an identical voice called through the trees. Through the trees walked an elf identical in face and form to the one before Legolas, though he wore bright shining mail. The mail-clad elf came behind his brother and his eyes widened when he saw Legolas.

"You are a long way from home, Prince," the mail-clad elf walked around his brother, pushing the blade away from Legolas' throat. The brothers studied Legolas, their keen grey eyes resting first on his empty quiver, to his single knife, to the old and new stains of orc blood upon his clothing. Their expressions betrayed nothing though Legolas felt as if he were on trial. Looking behind himself to free his eyes from the brother's searching gaze, Legolas saw that a man held the torch that lit their party. The man's eyes were serious under his hood though he nodded at Legolas in greeting.

"What brings you across the mountains, Prince?" one of the elves asked. Legolas was not prepared for the anger that erupted in his soul and he took a visible breath. The two elves before him exchanged a glance and Legolas wondered what the brothers had seen upon his face.

"Perhaps we have started things off wrongly," the mail-clad brother said in placating tones.

"I am Elrohir, son of Elrond, and this is my twin, Elladan," the two elves bowed at Legolas.

"Legolas… Greenleaf," the elf-prince answered. The twins shared a look between them again then nodded as if they had spoken to each other.

"Come, there is much we need to speak of," Elrohir said, turning and walking deeper into the forest.

Legolas followed the brothers without a word, the only sound breaking the silence the footfalls of the Ranger behind Legolas. The elf-prince had heard rumor that the sons of Elrond now roamed with the Rangers in the North, though he had not expected to encounter them in the wild. He studied the way the brothers moved in unison, and he watched as they nodded and shrugged at each other though no words passed between them.

After nearly an hour of walking, Legolas heard the outpost before he saw it through the trees. The crackle of flames and the muted sound of voices floated through the trees towards them, and Legolas smelled the faint waft of roasting meat. When they stepped into the clearing, several men hailed the elven brothers.

"My lords how went the scout?" a tall ranger with silvered hair stood from the fire to address the brothers and his gaze rested on Legolas who stood behind them.

"It was only a small band heading north, but they were dispatched by the time we caught up with them," Elrohir answered for the pair and he stepped aside and drew Legolas forward.

"We have the Prince to thank though, for he was the one who slew the brutes for us," Elrohir added. The rangers around the fire bowed to Legolas and he could not stop the ire rising in him. He was a Prince no more and did not expect to be treated as such.

"Mae govannen, Prince," the tall ranger said, saluting Legolas with a hand to his heart. Legolas returned the gesture, though his heart burned with the memory of the last person who had saluted him so.

"We would be honored to share our fire and our food with you," the tall ranger said, pulling Legolas from his thoughts. "Come, we have just roasted a wild ram from the mountains. Eat and be happy,"

"Many thanks," Legolas said quietly, moving to sit next to the fire. He listened as the brothers spoke with some of the rangers, relating what they had seen of orc movements and other signs in the wild. Then he heard them approaching and they each sat down across the fire from Legolas. They carved some meat from the haunch that still sat over the fire and Legolas did the same. After a moment of quiet eating, Legolas heard the brothers take a breath.

"Pray, tell us…" Elladan began.

"… what news have you heard from Erebor?" Elrohir finished. Legolas could not stop the hiss of disgust that left his lips and he did not miss the way the brothers looked at each other in concern.

"All is well in Erebor, though it was a bitter fight. Gundabad emptied its forces upon us but they were defeated,"

"And Oakenshield?" Elladan asked. Legolas shook his head.

"He and his sister-sons were slain upon Ravenhill," Legolas said, an unwelcome sting of pain lashing across his chest. He could still hear her sobs as they carried the young dwarf away…

"Who then has taken the seat under the mountain?" Elrohir asked, drawing Legolas from his memories.

"Dain Ironfoot came to his kin's aid and I would not be surprised if he claimed the throne," Legolas said, taking another bite of meat.

"But you are unsure…" Elladan began. Legolas felt an angry curse rise to his lips though he took a deep breath instead.

"I stayed after the battle only long enough to see that my father was alive; I saw that he was well and I left," Legolas spoke in Sindarin, his voice tight. The brothers could not miss the way the elven Prince's eyes had become decidedly dark and they shared another look. A moment of silence passed and Legolas was happy for it. He could hear the rangers of the outpost speculating on his appearance and he absently wondered if they understood what he had just spoken in his native tongue. The silver-haired ranger who had greeted the elves had stayed by the fire and Legolas had to commend the man on his nonchalance as he listened to the elves speak.

"There is something else, some other reason you have come over the mountains," Elladan said quietly, drawing Legolas' gaze upwards. Legolas was silent for a moment, weighing his words.

"My father told me I should seek out a great Ranger's son. He said he would be a great man,"

"Who is this man you seek?" Elrohir asked. Legolas' eyes flicked to the silver-haired ranger. The man was paying attention unashamedly now, though Legolas did not fault him for all the Rangers were like kin to one another.

"He is the son of Arathorn, though I only know that he goes by Strider," Legolas said, his words feeling weighty. The two elves and the silver-haired ranger though remained silent, and Legolas looked up questioningly. The twins' expressions were decidedly blank, though Elrohir's mouth twitched as if he wanted to smile. The ranger though, looked as if he was barely holding back mirth and Legolas felt his anger bristle.

"We are grieved to tell you that Arathorn has gone to his fathers," Elladan said, his face the more serious of the three.

"Though the 'ranger' Strider whom you seek is a far cry from manhood just yet," Elrohir said, starting to giggle in a most unlordly manor. Even Elladan's serious face twitched and Legolas clenched his fists.

"I did not abandon my homeland to be made a fool," Legolas gritted between his teeth. The elven brothers continued to giggle and it was the silver-haired ranger who spoke next.

"Forgive them, my Prince, you will become accustomed to their mirth in time,"

Legolas gave the silver-haired ranger an incredulous look and the ranger dropped his gaze to collect himself.

"The one you seek is yet a lad, only ten summers old. He and his mother took refuge in Imladris eight years ago and the boy has been named Elrond's foster-son,"

"He is called Estel among my father's house, though we are the ones responsible for the name Strider," Elladan supplied, seemingly over his moment of mirth. But when Legolas' eyes found the other elf's a snicker escaped Elladan's lips and Elrohir dissolved into another fit of laughter.

* * *

Legolas lay back on the pallet the Rangers had supplied to him, his mind whirling. Anger, uncertainty, and remorse swirled through him in a dizzying maelstrom and the elf Prince had trouble quieting his mind. Though he felt remorse for leaving, he knew he would not go back to his home. Not for a long time. If there was anything worse than his father's disapproval, it was his benevolence. Legolas' pride would not allow him to flee back to his father like a whipped puppy to its master. And if she was there? No, Legolas would not return to his home for a very long time.

Despite his anger at his father, Legolas' mind drifted back over his words. Though Thranduil was vindictive at times, Legolas knew he could not have made up the existence of the Ranger's son. The elven-king must have had a glimpse of foresight, though it must have been the barest of glimpses to be so vague. But to be sent away, searching for a great man only to find that it was a boy he sought after? Once again, Legolas' wounded pride welled in him and he grit his teeth.

Eventually, Legolas felt himself drift away into his meditations and he welcomed the rest, finally feeling safe to sink into his deepest thoughts. Images of battle and fire and ice floated through the Prince's mind and he struggled to free himself from their dark grasp. He was about to wake himself from his meditation when warm golden light flooded his thoughts and peace washed over him. After a moment, Legolas noticed the quiet trickle of a fountain and he looked around to see that he sat in a small garden. The place looked familiar to Legolas though he could not remember where he was. Suddenly, a child's laugh rang through the air and Legolas looked toward the sound.

"I'll save you, mama! Look out!"

A young boy ran into the garden followed by his young mother. The young woman looked tired, though she smiled at the boy, who was wielding a wooden sword against invisible enemies. The lad scampered about and Legolas felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. The lad's dark hair was a tousled mess and his mother plucked a leaf from its tangles as he ran by. The boy laughed and threw his arms around his mother's waist and then ran off again. Legolas looked around to where the boy went but could not see him.

"Hello,"

Legolas started, looking to see that the boy now sat next to him. The boy smiled at Legolas and his grey eyes sparkled.

"I'm Estel. We are going to be great friends, I just know it," the boy scrunched his face into a silly grin and Legolas felt a genuine smile spread across his face.

"Son, where are you?"

Estel's head whipped toward the sound of his mother's voice and he looked at Legolas apologetically.

"Mother needs me," Estel scooted from the bench and disappeared behind a rosebush. But then his head peeked back around the bush and an impish smile spread across his young face.

"Tell my brothers to bring you soon!" then the boy disappeared and Legolas heard him giggling as he snuck up on his mother. He could hear the pretense in the woman's voice as she feigned shock and Legolas smiled, remembering doing the same with his mother.

Suddenly the golden picture shattered and Legolas felt pain radiate through him as he saw his mother's face. Then she faded into darkness, causing Legolas to wake with a start.

Legolas lay still on his pallet, taking deep breaths in hopes to wash the sudden pain in his chest away. As the pain faded, Legolas remembered the lad, Estel. A small smile crossed Legolas' face at the memory of the boy's impish smile and sparkling eyes. As Legolas mulled over his dream, a strange restlessness settled in his stomach. Hearing the voices of Elladan and Elrohir, Legolas rose from his pallet. When he ducked from under the tent flap, the twin's head's turned in unison to look at him.

"Greetings," Elladan said.

"We hope you rested well," Elrohir intoned. The brother's watched Legolas carefully, watching to see if his anger of the previous night would return.

"I did rest well, thank you," Legolas said, offering the brothers a small smile. The brothers looked at each other and Elladan nodded.

"We've had a dream…" Elladan began.

"… To take you to Imladris," Elrohir finished. Legolas looked between the brothers carefully, wondering if they had read his mind. When the twin's grey eyes remained serious, Legolas nodded.

"I too had a dream to go to your home. It seems Estel wishes me there,"

The brothers shared another look then both turned to Legolas.

"Let us prepare the men and we will begin our journey," the brothers said in unison, turning away from Legolas and splitting in opposite directions. Legolas turned and fetched his meager belongings from the tent where he slept. He studied his empty quiver, for once, wishing he had restocked his store before he had left Erebor. Someone behind him cleared their throat and Legolas turned to see one of the younger men before him.

"The lords said to give you these," The young ranger handed Legolas a sheaf of arrows. "And these," The man then handed Legolas a bundle of clothing. "They feel you would be happy to be rid of the smell of orc blood,"

"Thank you," Legolas said and the young ranger bowed his head with a smile. As the young man left, Legolas ducked inside the tent where he had slept, stripping away his soiled garments quickly and donning the new. Though elves were immune to the elements, Legolas could not deny that the warmth of the thick woolen leggings and tunic brightened his soul. Lastly was a dark cloak that Legolas fastened about his shoulders then he ducked out of the tent. By the time he had strapped his full quiver to his back and checked his bowstring, the brothers had returned. They were dressed for travel as well, and they studied Legolas carefully.

"All is ready, Prince," Elladan said. Legolas felt himself bristle at his title and he pushed his rising ire away.

"Please, only Legolas," Legolas said quietly. The brothers nodded in unison then looked at each other.

"Let us be off then," Elrohir said. Elladan nodded and they began the trek south.

* * *

A/N: I'm back! Whew! I know it has been some time since the Hobbit films have been out but I've had this idea in my head since I first saw the ending of BOTFA. I know PJ altered the timeline of both the Hobbit and the Lord Of the Rings but I still couldn't leave this little "flub" alone. And since the idea of Legolas and Aragorn's friendship starting when Aragorn was just a boy wouldn't leave my mind, here I am. I will do my best to update when I can but being a mom of three takes a toll on my writing time. But...

... I'm so glad to be back... :)


	2. Chapter 2

It was only the three elves traveling and they were on foot. Though horseback would be easier on them, the twin brothers recommended they leave the few horses they had at the outpost. As it was, it had snowed again during the night, and horses wading through the snow would leave too much of a trail. So Legolas found himself walking in silence again, the only difference being the twin brothers ahead of him

As they walked, Legolas studied the terrain. With the fresh-fallen snow, there were many tracks to see. Birds and beasts of every kind seemed to have walked through the snow and the signs of life lifted Legolas' spirits. He had learned how to track all manner of creature living in the Woodland Realm but recently, had only tracked creatures poisoned by evil. It was heartening to Legolas to see the dainty prints of the weasel and minx scampering through the snow as well as the sweeping impression of an owl's wings as it descended upon its prey.

As the day progressed, the winter sun's rays became hidden behind more snow clouds. The landscape as well became silent and brooding. All tracks of peaceful wildlife had vanished, and a chill-unrest settled upon Legolas' soul. About them, the trees thinned away and the landscape became filled with rocky bluffs and cliff-sides that skittered with small rocks. At every small sound, the three elves' heads whipped around, only to see nothing.

"Where exactly are we?" Legolas asked quietly. Even his whisper bounced off the rocky hills and he cringed to hear his echo.

"Our outpost was at the feet of the mountains just outside the Ettenmoors," Elladan supplied, his whispered voice seeming just as loud. Legolas nodded, his unease growing. The Ettenmoors were notoriously home to mountain trolls, and the trolls had a vicious reputation.

"We cannot stop until we leave these hills," Elrohir said, casting his grey eyes about. Legolas nodded again, and he quickened his pace. Night would be falling soon, and they would be in the most danger then. The brothers knew this as well and as the sun sank into the west, their pace quickened. As the night noises rose, Legolas took his bow from his back, fitting an arrow loosely onto the string.

Suddenly, Elladan stopped in his tracks, holding up his hand for Elrohir and Legolas to stop. Legolas' senses sharpened to a point and he heard what Elladan had. A deep rumbling sounded ahead of them, like giant footsteps; Legolas could feel the ground quake beneath his feet and he cast his eyes about for any sort of cover. Elrohir pointed to the top of a bluff above them, and all three elves scrambled for higher ground. Atop the hill, Legolas saw what had alerted Elladan's senses.

At the foot of a bluff, a deep, yawning, cave opened into the night. Outside the cave crouched a troll. The creature's back was to them, but Legolas heard the ominous crunch of bone between teeth and bile rose in his throat. A small breeze blew towards them, and the rotting smell of troll and the carrion he ate wafted into the elves' faces. Legolas grit his teeth and held his breath; he looked over at the brothers and saw them nodding at one another. Slowly, Elrohir rose, and Elladan followed, leaving Legolas at the rear.

Legolas followed the brothers as they crept along the bluff, careful not to disturb any small rocks that would give away their presence. They passed the gorging troll, creeping along the top of the bluff. Legolas looked over his shoulder as they passed, the urge to gag rising in his throat as he spotted what the troll ate. The skeleton seemed to be one of its brethren, and the troll scarfed greedily from the rancid corpse. Legolas tore his eyes away from the sight as they began to descend the bluff. A large snowflake fell from the sky and landed on Legolas' cheek. Then, suddenly, the wind gusted so strongly that Legolas had to fight to keep his balance. Above the whistling wind, Legolas looked behind himself, dread falling upon him.

"Oh no…" Elrohir muttered, his eyes wide. The troll had caught their scent and it rumbled towards them.

"Run!" Elladan hissed, taking off into a sprint as the troll uttered a territorial growl. Elrohir followed his brother quickly though Legolas stood rooted to the ground. The troll was fast approaching and Legolas knew it could outrun them if it so desired. As the beast drew near, Legolas saw the dark gleam of its eyes and he took aim. Just as the troll was within reach of him, Legolas let his arrow fly. The troll stumbled backward and Legolas saw that his arrow had missed its mark and embedded into the troll's cheek. Cursing the untried arrow, Legolas knocked another. This time, the arrow found its mark and the troll stumbled and fell, clawing at its eye in pain. Legolas drew his knife then, darting between the trolls flailing limbs to slice its throat. The troll flailed as it felt the burning metal of Legolas' knife against it throat and as the elf-prince sliced through its thick skin, the troll grabbed for Legolas. The elf was quick though one of the troll's thick claws raked down Legolas' arm as he leaped away. The troll was quickly wallowing in its own blood and it lay still with one last gasping breath. Legolas watched the creature for a moment, his stomach roiling. Death was everywhere… there was no way he could escape it.

"Legolas! We must keep moving!" Elrohir had run back to Legolas and he grabbed the other elf's arm. Legolas flinched as stinging pain seared up his right arm and he pulled away from Elrohir. In the darkness, Legolas could see the blood coating Elrohir's palm and he grit his teeth when he looked at his arm.

Through his torn sleeve, Legolas saw a wide gouge from his shoulder to the top of his vambrace. The Troll's claw had scraped the skin away nearly to muscle. Legolas took a deep breath as slow drops of blood began to trickle down his arm. He looked at Elrohir again and the twin's face was worried. Legolas immediately bristled at the concern in the elf's eyes.

"I have received worse," Legolas said, ignoring the searing pain as he pressed the torn fabric of his sleeve into the wound to slow the bleeding. Elrohir looked as if he were going to say something when Elladan ran to him.

"What did you do?" Elladan's expression was displeased and Legolas looked at him hotly. "The stench of that creature will spread like fire and every sort of foul creature will be crawling through these hills,"

"Perhaps," Legolas said, his voice tight. "But they will all be after the creature's carcass and not us. We should keep moving before our carcasses are added to the pile,"

Elladan took a breath to shoot a retort at Legolas but Elrohir sent him a meaningful look.

"Very well; let us go," Elladan said, turning on his heel. Elrohir nodded at his brother's back, giving Legolas one last look before he followed. Then the three elves began to run again. Legolas' arm burned as he moved, though the pain kept him alert. In the distance behind the three, an ominous howl floated into the night, and others answered from all around.

* * *

Elrohir's heart lifted as he saw the beginnings of sunrise in the east. The night had passed without another incident, though the three elves had been on edge as they ran through the troll infested hills. He knew the trolls would soon be heading for their dens for fear of turning to stone and he thanked the Valar for the creature's strange weakness. And Legolas' assumption had been correct, for any creature they heard in the night was well behind them and did not seem to be heading their way.

 _We have come farther than I thought brother._ Elladan's voice echoed quietly in Elrohir's mind and he nodded.

 _The prince was right; killing that troll kept the other creatures occupied._ Elrohir replied. He could see the chagrin on his brother's face though Elladan's thoughts remained silent.

 _It is still strange that the Prince is far from home; I fear something is amiss._ Elladan's voice echoed after several moments of silence. Elrohir nodded again at his brother's words. He too thought it was overly strange to see the Prince of the Woodland Realm so far from his people. In their journeys, they would every so often encounter elvish brethren heading west, though they were often heading for the Havens to sail to the undying lands. There was too much anger in the Prince's eyes for him to want to leave Middle Earth's shores just yet.

As he thought of the Prince, Elrohir noticed that the elf in question had been extremely silent. He would hear the murmur of the Prince's thoughts brush against his own from time to time, but that had not happened for many hours and Elrohir cast a look back at Legolas. As he and Legolas locked eyes, Elrohir knew immediately something was not right. He stopped in his tracks, calling his brother's name in his mind as Legolas stumbled and fell. Elrohir caught Legolas and lowered the ashen elf carefully onto the ground. A foul stench wafted from Legolas and his skin burned like it was on fire. Elrohir looked immediately to the Prince's injured arm. As he peeled the torn sleeve from the wound, Elrohir gasped.

 _We must get him to father as fast as we can._ Elladan's voice echoed and Elrohir again nodded silently as Elladan came to stand over them. He could not tear his eyes away from Legolas' arm, and a sinking dread filled Elrohir's chest. The long scrape was already turning black around the edges and foul green pus oozed from the center of the wound. He tried to wake the prince, but every attempt was met with no response. Elrohir heard his brother sigh worriedly and he looked up at his twin.

"Come, I will carry him first," Elladan said, taking hold of Legolas' good arm and pulling the Prince across his shoulders. Elrohir helped his brother settle the elf on his shoulders then Elladan began to walk. Elrohir followed his brother, casting worried looks at the Prince's ashen face.

As the sun rose in the sky to midday, Elladan finally stopped. They had kept a fast pace and Elrohir noticed the small bead of sweat upon his brother's brow. Carefully, Elladan lowered Legolas to the ground. The prince did not stir and the brother's exchanged a worried glance.

"We need to call for him," Elladan said as he gently poured some water into the unconscious prince's mouth.

"We may be too far away; he may not hear," Elrohir said, taking a glance at the festering wound on Legolas' arm. He sucked sharply upon his teeth when he saw that there were now spidery black veins reaching out from the black edges of the wound.

"If he hears or not, we must try. I do not want to be the one to deliver the news to Thranduil that his son has died," Elladan said. Elrohir's heart sank at the thought and he looked to his brother.

"Call for him,"

Elladan nodded then sat on the ground, crossing his legs and placing his hands on his knees. The elf then took a deep breath and Elrohir watched as his brother's mouth moved though he heard no sound. After a few minutes, Elladan's eyes popped open and he stood quickly.

"He has heard; he is on his way,"

Elrohir felt his spirits lift some and he lifted Legolas across his shoulders with Elladan's help. The brothers then set off at a fast pace, hope giving them renewed speed.

As the sun began to touch the western horizon, the brothers heard the sound of hoof beats and they stopped, straining their eyes to see who approached. It was Elladan who spotted the rider first and a smile lit his face.

"It is him," Elladan said, helping Elrohir lay Legolas on the ground. Some of the joy in Elladan's eyes dampened though when he looked upon the prince. The black streaks had now spread past Legolas' shoulder and they could see the dark tendrils creeping past the edge of the Prince's collar and up his neck.

 _We may be too late after all._ Elladan's voice echoed in Elrohir's mind. Elrohir looked at his brother sharply, shaking his head.

 _I do not think the Valar would let the Prince get this far then kill him; there is a reason he is still here._

Elladan shrugged as Elrohir's words echoed in his mind. He hoped he was wrong but the Prince's condition did not look promising.

"Elladan, Elrohir!" a bright voice called out to the brothers, drawing their eyes away from Legolas.

"Glorfindel! You are a most welcome sight!" Elrohir called, joy filling him at the sight of the fair elf. Glorfindel smiled at the brothers as he rode to them, leading two other horses behind him. The smile on the ancient elf's face vanished though as his ethereal eyes fell on Legolas' still form.

"The son of Thranduil?" Glorfindel asked, dismounting and kneeling next to the prince. Elladan and Elrohir nodded in unison, even though Glorfindel was not watching them anymore. With surprising grace, the golden elf lifted Legolas from the ground and sat him on his steed.

"There is not much time left for him. I will ride with him and bring him to your father," Glorfindel said, mounting behind Legolas' slumped form.

"Ride my lord," Elrohir said. Glorfindel nodded at the brothers, turning his steed away from them and riding back the way he came. The brothers watched his departure for a moment before they too mounted up and rode towards their home.

* * *

Strange dreams floated through Legolas' mind and he struggled to wake from them. The faces of his loved ones appeared before him and he called out for them, asking them to free him from the strange prison that held him. He could recall nothing save that he had been running with the twin sons of Elrond to Imladris, then, he had fallen into a dark prison. Wherever he walked, he could not find the light and Legolas soon felt panic begin to set in. As the darkness grew, terror set in, and dark shapes filled Legolas' mind.

Images of fire, ice, and death inundated his mind and Legolas could not flee from them. Great, tall orcs from Gundabad fought against him and Legolas could barely keep them at bay. Soon, the orcs had him backed into a corner and Legolas saw no way of escape. But just as one of the orcs swung at Legolas, a bright light shone all about him and the orcs vanished. Legolas looked around himself, trying to see where the light came from but could find nothing. But the panic and fear had fled at the shining light and Legolas felt peace wash over him. He did not know how long he would be trapped but as long as the light remained, he waited in peace.

* * *

The first sound Legolas heard was the soft trickle of water. He lay still, just listening to the sound. It was a joy to hear something other than the complete silence he had been trapped in and the elf-prince did not want to move, for fear what he heard was not real. But as time moved by, Legolas was sure what he heard was real. But then, Legolas heard another sound and his sluggish senses began to sharpen. It was the sound of someone breathing in sleep. The sound was light and it was to his side. Curiosity filled the elf and he struggled to open his eyes.

Bright light flooded Legolas' vision and he closed his eyes quickly. After a moment, he tried again. This time, his eyes were able to focus and he looked about him. He was in a bed, and bright white linens covered his body. His eyes focused on a small fountain just past elegantly carved pillars that led to a small balcony. Then, he turned his head slowly, surprised to see a head of dark hair pillowed upon small arms. It was most certainly a child that leaned upon the edge of the bed but Legolas could not see the child's face. So he watched the sleeping child, content in the peaceful sound of their rhythmic breathing. Legolas did not know how long he watched the child, but the sun had moved to cast different shadows through the open balcony when the child sighed and lifted their head, casting sleepy grey eyes up at Legolas. Immediately, Legolas recognized the child from his dream and he smiled at the boy.

"Estel?" Legolas asked, surprised at how gravely his voice sounded. The boy sat back quickly, his eyes wide.

"You're awake! I must tell Ada!" the boy scrambled from the chair where he sat, running from the room on legs still wobbly from sleep. Legolas smiled as he watched the lad run. He had made it to Imladris.

A commotion could be heard as the boy ran down the hall and Legolas almost chuckled as he heard the boy's small voice yelling for someone. After a few minutes though, Legolas felt the presence of another elf and he looked back toward the door. The unmistakable form of Elrond filled the doorway and Legolas nodded as best he could at the elf lord.

"Estel told me you had awoken," Elrond said, moving to Legolas.

"And apparently the whole household," Legolas said, giving a rusty chuckle. Elrond smiled apologetically, only putting his arm behind Legolas' shoulders to help him sit upright. As he pushed against the bed with his arms, Legolas could not stop the hiss of pain that escaped his lips.

"You sustained quite an injury, Prince," Elrond said, lifting Legolas' right arm gently. "You may feel some stinging," Elrond said, starting to work at the edges of the bandage wrapped around Legolas' arm from shoulder to elbow. A burning sting began to spread up his arm as the bandage came off, and Legolas grit his teeth. But then he heard small footsteps at the doorway and he looked up to see the child, Estel.

"Ada, may I watch?" the lad's voice was tentative and his grey eyes flicked between Elrond and Legolas. Elrond looked at Legolas, a wordless request in his eyes. Legolas nodded, seeing the interest in the boy's eyes.

"Come over here Estel, and hand me the salves and bandages," Elrond said. Estel came quickly to the elf lord's side and his small hands quickly found the clean bandages somewhere beside the edge of the bed. The boy watched attentively as Elrond removed the last of the soiled bandages and Legolas looked over at his wounded arm. The strip of missing skin was larger than he remembered, though new, pink flesh was already starting to fill in the edges.

"We had to debride much filth and dead flesh from your arm when you came. That is why it seems larger than what it once was," Elrond supplied, having seen the curious way Legolas looked at his arm.

"I do not remember coming here," Legolas finally said, looking up at Elrond. "What happened?"

"From what my sons told me, you sustained a wound slaying a troll. Filth from the troll's claw infected the wound and bound your body in a fever," Elrond held his hand out in front of the boy Estel and the lad handed Elrond a glass jar with a strange smelling salve. Elrond applied the salve to Legolas' arm, falling silent for a moment.

"When Glorfindel bore you here, you were upon Mandos' doorstep. It took many days and long nights for any medicines to break your fever," Elrond said, taking the clean roll of bandage from Estel when the boy held it out to him.

"How long have I been here?" Legolas now asked.

"It has been many days," Elrond said, wrapping the clean bandage with precision.

"It's been almost ten days, Ada," Estel said, looking up at Elrond with a crease in his brow.

"Yes, Estel, you are correct," Elrond said in a fatherly tone, securing the end of the bandage with a neat knot. "Estel, could you go ask Lindir to send up some food for the Prince?"

"Yes, Ada," Estel answered, his tone slightly disappointed. When the boy had disappeared, Elrond sat in the chair next to the bed, fixing Legolas in his inquisitive gaze.

"My sons tell me you have fled your homeland; is something amiss that we should be aware of?" Elrond asked his gaze turning serious. Legolas felt anger bristle in his chest at Elrond's words and he took a deep breath before he spoke.

"I do not wish to be a part of my father's kingdom any longer," Legolas said, knowing his words sounded petulant.

"Why? What has your father done to drive you away?" Elrond asked quietly. There was a strange note of resignation in the older elf's voice that made Legolas wonder if Elrond knew this day was coming all along. Then again, Legolas thought bitterly, if anyone knew Thranduil well enough, they would eventually find that his heart was as guarded as his mountain kingdom. But to put that thought into words was too painful for Legolas and he was silent for a long while. Elrond seemed not to mind, and sat patiently, waiting for Legolas' reply.

"It is not what he has done, but what he hasn't," Legolas finally said. He cast a glance at Elrond, seeing the older elf nod. Legolas did not know what Elrond had gathered from his vague statement but the elf-lord seemed content with Legolas' answer.

"You are welcome here as long as you feel you need," Elrond said, his eyes still serious. But then, Estel's small voice floated down the hall and Elrond smiled.

"I hope Estel will not be a bother to you. He told me two days before you came that he had dreamed of you and that you were to be fast friends. I have humored him and let him help after your care but if he is a nuisance, you need only tell me," Elrond then rose, walking to the door as Estel walked in with a tray of food. The boy had the tray carefully balanced in his hands and he walked carefully so as not to spill the bowl of broth that sat upon the center of the tray. Elrond took the tray from the boy, thanking the lad before placing the tray in Legolas' lap.

"You may feel tired again after you have eaten; I counsel you to rest the remainder of the day and we will see how you feel tomorrow," Elrond turned to leave, taking hold of Estel's shoulder but the boy resisted.

"Ada? May I stay with the Prince?" the boy looked pleadingly at Elrond and the elf-lord looked to Legolas. Legolas nodded, seeing no harm in having the child with him for a time.

"Very well, though if the Prince tires, you must let him rest," Elrond said, his expression stern.

"Yes, Ada," Estel answered. Elrond nodded then left the room. Estel turned to Legolas, his expression timid. Legolas motioned to the chair by the bed and the boy scampered into the seat. Legolas smiled at the lad, then lifted the bowl of broth to his lips, taking a sip. The broth tasted almost heavenly to the prince, and he struggled not to eat too quickly. To make the broth last, Legolas nibbled on a biscuit that had arrived with the broth. All the while, Estel watched Legolas carefully, his expression still timid.

"Do you help lord Elrond with healing duties?" Legolas asked, remembering Estel's astute gaze as he had helped Elrond re-bandage his arm.

"Sometimes," Estel answered, a slight blush coloring his cheeks. "Ada has only just let me help with the small things. Your wound is the biggest I've ever seen," Estel stated, his tone matter of fact. He fell silent quickly though and Legolas finished his broth then pushed the tray towards the foot of the bed.

"Lord Elrond said you dreamed of me," Legolas said, watching Estel carefully. The boy looked down at his swinging toes, his cheeks blushing again.

"Mama and Lindir didn't believe me, so I had to tell Ada,"

"Do they believe you now?"

"Yes!" Estel stated emphatically. "I saw lord Glorfindel first and I knew it was you with him. I ran to Ada as fast as I could and told him you were here and then I helped him heal you. You were so sick, and your arm was turning black and Ada feared he would have to cut it off," Estel rattled, suddenly animated. "But I told Ada that he couldn't cut your arm off because you were an archer and would be sad if you couldn't fire a bow and arrow,"

Legolas listened to the boy with wide eyes, suddenly infinitely grateful for the lad. Elrond had not truly told him the severity of his wound and Legolas shivered to think of what he could have woken up to.

"Are you all right?" Estel asked, pulling Legolas from his thoughts. He wondered what had crossed his face and he smiled at Estel.

"I am fine,"

"Oh. Good. Your eyes got all dark like Ada's when he's upset and I was afraid I made you angry," Estel looked at Legolas, leaning on his hands upon the edge of the bed and bringing his face closer to Legolas'. Legolas had the inclination to laugh but the boy's gaze was serious and Legolas held his mirth.

"They're blue again; good," Estel said, leaning away from Legolas. The boy then sat back on the chair, swinging his feet and folding his hands in his lap much like Elrond had moments before. Legolas did chuckle then and the boy smiled at him, though his eyes were questioning.

"You love lord Elrond," Legolas said, his words more a statement than a question.

"He is my Ada," Estel said simply. Legolas nodded and the unlikely pair remained silent for a moment.

"I heard Ada say he knows your Ada. Does he?" Estel asked.

"Yes, yes he does," Legolas said, his light mood darkening.

"Do you love your Ada?" Estel asked next, his young face serious. Legolas was not ready for the strange flood of emotion that rocked through him and a sharp pang of guilt stabbed his chest.

"I am feeling tired. I think I need to rest," Legolas said abruptly. Estel's face fell and he scooted from his chair. "But please come back when I wake," Legolas said quickly, not able to bear the lad's downcast expression. Estel's eyes brightened some and he nodded at Legolas before walking from the room.

In the silence that Estel left, Legolas could not stifle the emotions fighting for control of him and he fell back into the pillows with his eyes clamped shut. Thankfully, he was truly tired, and he soon drifted into the solitude of his waking dreams.

* * *

A/N Telepathic Twins! I know that Tolkien alluded to certain elves being telepathic so I didn't see it being out of character that Elladan and Elrohir could speak to each other telepathically. Especially with their twin bond. My dad is an identical twin and I remember several times he and his twin would be thinking or doing the same thing, or if one was sick, the other just had a gut feeling to call and check up on them. All that crazy twin stuff. So I figure that Elven twins would have that same crazy bond but amplified x1000. And as I said before, since Tolkien alluded to higher elves being able to communicate with the mind of another, it would make sense that with their telepathy, the twins would be able to speak to Glorfindel as well.

Thank you all for your kind reviews of the previous chapter!


	3. Chapter 3

Elrond sat in his study, a blank parchment on the desk in front of him and an inked quill ready in his hand. He often was never at a loss for words, though he chose his now carefully. He was writing to Thranduil to tell him that his son was safely ensconced in Imladris. Legolas was certainly no elfling run away from home, but Elrond had a suspicion that Thranduil had not truly wanted his son to depart. But, Thranduil was a proud king, and Elrond could not see him sending for his son to return home. After a moment of thought, Elrond finally touched the tip of his quill to the parchment.

 _Thranduil, King of the Woodland Realm and my long friend,_

 _Greetings._

 _I write to you to inform you that the Prince has arrived at my home and is safely residing in my halls. He may be a guest as long as he wishes and do not feel that you need send for him. He is not a burden._

 _He arrived nearly a fortnight ago, wounded and suffering from fever. Through the Valar's providence, he has been restored and is safe from any lingering effects of his injuries._

 _If ever you wish to journey west, know my halls will welcome you. I Pray the Valar this finds you well and the stars shine ever bright upon your kingdom._

 _With sincerity of heart,_

 _Elrond, Lord of Imladris_

Elrond sat back, placing his quill back in its stand. He felt the simplicity of words was needed and though the missive was short, Elrond knew he could add no more without inciting Thranduil's ire.

Thranduil was certainly a confusing creature, and Elrond thought back to the strange friendship that had developed between them. They had met formally when Thranduil journeyed with his father, Oropher, to join the Last Alliance. Thranduil was instantly intrigued by Elrond and they had spent many nights about their campfire, discussing all manner of things in Arda.

Thranduil had been young, and his optimism had not yet faded from him, and he was eager to learn all the Elrond would speak to him. They had talked of many things both mundane and exotic and Elrond had even learned some things from Thranduil in their talks. They had also spoken of their families and Thranduil had spoken of his young wife in glowing tones. With their shared talks, their comradery had quickly grown to friendship in the looming shadow of battle, and they fought side-by-side upon the blighted plains before Mordor. But the aftermath of the battle of Dagorlad was what had begun to change Thranduil.

Defying the leadership of Gil-galad, Oropher rashly led his troops into battle before it was time, suffering heavy losses and ultimately losing Oropher himself. Thranduil had taken his father's death heavily and he commanded his remaining elves with a heavy hand. When Sauron was driven back, and the battle done, Thranduil had led his few elves back to Greenwood the Great and had established his fortified kingdom by his own power, stoically refusing any aid offered to him.

Then, many years later, Thranduil had invited the elven Lords of Arda to his halls, to celebrate the birth of his son, Legolas. Elrond had journeyed to the Woodland Realm with Celebrían and his young family, overjoyed for Thranduil and his wife. Thranduil had been delighted to see Elrond, though the Elven-king could not mask the envy that had chased across his face at the sight of Vilya upon Elrond's hand. Galadriel and Celeborn had come then as well, and though Thranduil was respectful to the noble pair, Elrond had felt the resentment washing off Thranduil in waves.

Elrond recalled one night of feasting when the wine was flowing and thoughts were more easily spoken when the root of Thranduil's envy was revealed. Thranduil had started to expound upon the fortifications of his kingdom, giving various details that would seem harmless. Celeborn then noted that though Thranduil's kingdom was the weakest of the Elven havens, he had done well in providing for his people. Elrond could not forget the fire that had lit in Thranduil's eyes at Celeborn's words.

 _"_ _I established my throne by my own strength. Your kingdoms have flourished with the aid of your Rings of Power. Remove your rings, and we shall see who is weakest then,"_

Elrond shook his head, remembering the stony silence that had descended upon those feasting. Thranduil's wife had looked mortified, and she seemed beyond thankful to depart to her quarters to suckle their babe. Their visit had ended some few days later, though Galadriel and Celeborn had remained ever-gracious to Thranduil, leaving many gifts for the young babe, Legolas.

So lost was Elrond in his thoughts that he almost didn't hear the small patter of feet creeping near to him. Turning slowly, Elrond saw that Estel stood at the door. His eyes were serious, and Elrond beckoned Estel closer.

"You have something on your mind Estel?" Elrond asked.

"Legolas is sad. I asked him about his Ada and his eyes became all dark like yours do when you are sad," Estel sat upon a stool next to the edge of Elrond's desk, leaning upon his elbows with his chin in his hands.

"I had felt the same thing from Legolas," Elrond answered, smiling gently at Estel.

"But what can we do? Mama or you or Elladan and Elrohir can always cheer me up; Legolas has no one here for him," Estel's young brow furrowed in concern and Elrond felt his heart swell in love for the lad.

"Perhaps you are the one to take away Legolas' sadness?" Elrond asked. "You dreamt of him before he came. Perhaps the Valar wish you to be Legolas' friend?"

Estel sat back then, digesting his foster-father's words. The boy chewed his lip, deep in thought and Elrond waited for him to speak, sealing his letter while he waited. As Elrond pulled his signet from the cooling wax, Estel looked up from his thoughts.

"I think you are right, Ada,"

"Then do your best to become Legolas' friend," Elrond handed the letter to Estel. "Take this to Lindir; he will know what to do. Then come back, and we will work on your lessons for the day,"

Estel nodded his head, taking the letter from Elrond with a determined expression and leaving the study upon fast feet. Elrond sat back in his chair for a moment, gathering his thoughts to teach Estel when he returned.

* * *

Legolas woke suddenly, his mind sharp. The haze that had surrounded his thoughts was gone, and Legolas sat up carefully. His arm was still painful but the pain was tolerable and Legolas rose from the bed slowly. His head swam a little as he gained his balance but the dizziness quickly passed. Looking around, Legolas found a small closet with various clothes inside. He found a tunic and breeches to his liking and put them on, then moved towards the balcony.

There was a chill in the air when Legolas stepped onto the small balcony, and the cold seeped into his bare feet. The sky above him was just turning pink with the sunrise and Legolas could still see the twinkling light of the morning stars. Legolas looked at the stars with a smile but the expression quickly faded away as bitterness washed over him. Starlight only reminded him of _her_ , and she was part of the reason why he could not return to his homeland.

With a sigh, Legolas returned to his room, looking about to find any sort of shoes. He found his own boots next to a stand that held his quiver, bow, and knife. Legolas cast a fleeting glance at the weapons, noticing they had been cleaned of the orc and troll blood that had stained them many days earlier.

As he left his rooms, Legolas heard the quiet noises of Imladris waking. He could her soft elven voices as they spoke to one another. He could also smell the faint scent of food wafting from the kitchens. Legolas had never been to Imladris, but he found its halls easy to navigate and was soon walking into a feast hall. There were other elves assembled, either getting their food or finishing their breakfast and only a few cast curious eyes at Legolas as he entered. Keeping his eyes down, Legolas was able to attain some food then escape the hall into a small garden. The garden was still dormant for winter but there was a bench between two holly bushes where Legolas sat. He ate quickly, still feeling ravenous, but filled quickly despite his hunger.

Suddenly, from inside the hall, Legolas heard his name. He looked up though seeing no one calling to him. His ire flared as he heard his name again, this time whispered by muted voices. But then he heard the small voice of Estel, and Legolas smiled. The boy's voice carried better than the elves' and his chatter was cheerful.

"Good morning Lindir!" the boy chirped, and Legolas heard the clatter of plates as the boy gathered his breakfast.

"Good morning, Estel, Gilraen," Lindir replied, in a more restrained tone. Legolas had not yet met Estel's mother, and his curiosity was piqued. He debated returning to the hall but then he saw Estel bounding toward him with a smile upon his face.

"Good morning, Prince Legolas!" Estel beamed and sat next to Legolas upon the bench. "You slept a long time but Ada said you would. You look much better. Has Ada changed your bandage yet?" Estel rattled off.

"Estel," Gilraen's quiet voice halted the boy's questions and he looked at his mother sheepishly. Gilraen's gaze was gentle though her eyes held a small rebuke. Legolas stood quickly, offering Gilraen his place when he saw she held two plates of food.

"Thank you, Prince," Gilraen replied quietly.

"Please, only Legolas," Legolas said, drawing an uncertain smile from Gilraen. The young mother turned her attention to her son for a moment, and Legolas walked a little ways away, pretending to examine a small fountain that still ran, in spite of the cold weather. He then wandered through the small garden keeping his ears upon Gilraen and Estel. He could hear Gilraen speaking to Estel in soft tones, to which the boy replied boisterously. She spoke to her son about the day's events and asked how his lessons progressed. It was common banter between a mother and son, but there remained a strange resignation in Gilraen's voice that puzzled Legolas. But he was not given much time to muse upon what he heard in Gilraen's voice for he heard Estel's small feet coming towards him.

"Mama said I could come to talk to you since I finished my breakfast," Estel chirped, coming close to Legolas with a smile. Legolas smiled at the boy, suddenly unsure what to speak of with the lad. Children were a rare blessing among elves, so Legolas' interactions with such had been quite limited. Estel though saved Legolas from embarrassment and touched Legolas' arm gently.

"Ada will want to check on your arm; we should go find him," Estel then took Legolas' hand, leading him out of the garden and back into Imladris' ornate halls. Legolas felt slightly self-conscious being led along by a child, but he distracted himself by paying attention to where Estel was leading him. Eventually, they found themselves in an ornate study. Its walls were lined with books and maps of all shapes and sizes and relics sat upon ornate stands about the room. There was an alcove near one end of the room and a desk sat there. Behind the desk sat Elrond, and he was watching the pair with a bemused smile upon his face.

"Good morning Legolas. How are you feeling?" Elrond asked, rising from his desk.

"Much better, you have my thanks," Legolas said. Estel had not let go of his hand and Legolas stood in indecision before Elrond rescued him.

"If you do not mind, I can clean and dress your wound here?" Elrond said, standing and gesturing for Legolas to sit in a chair that sat by a fireplace. Legolas sat obediently, undoing his tunic and pulling his bandaged arm free of the silken sleeve. Elrond set to work quickly, tossing the soiled bandages into the fireplace. The fire quickly devoured the bandages as Legolas stared at the flames, distracting himself from the light stinging sensation brought on by Elrond's ministrations. Soon though, Elrond was wrapping new bandages on Legolas' arm and the younger elf looked up at the elf-lord.

"You are healing remarkably well; a trait your family shares I think," Elrond said, not missing the flash of anger that sparked in Legolas' eyes. Elrond did not address the younger elf's emotions though, feeling in his heart that it was not yet time to speak of the Prince's state of mind.

"Ada?" Estel's voice brought Elrond back to the present.

"Yes, Estel?"

"May I show Legolas around? I'll be done in time for my lessons," Estel looked up at Elrond pleadingly and Elrond smiled. He had been ready to suggest that very thing but was unsure if Legolas would want a tour given by Imladris' host, and not the host's foster son.

"If the Prince is agreeable to it," Elrond said, looking at Legolas expectantly. The younger elf's expression was unreadable but the corner of his mouth quirked like he wished to smile when Estel looked at him with his wide grey eyes.

"I see nothing wrong with it," Legolas said, standing from his seat and sliding his arm gingerly back into his tunic. As soon as Legolas had laced his tunic back up, Estel once again took his hand, leading him away from Elrond's study and into the cold morning.

Once they were away from Elrond, Legolas felt some better. Something about the elf-lord made him uneasy. Back in the Greenwood, unease meant danger, and Legolas could not fight against what had been ingrained into his mind. He idly wondered if he would ever be able to change but then Estel's voice pulled him away from his thoughts.

"Would you like to see my favorite places first? Or just the whole place all at once?" Estel smiled at Legolas and the lad eagerly bounced upon his feet.

"You could show me your favorite places first; I'm sure I will be around long enough to find my way between them," Legolas answered. A smile spread across Estel's face and he took Legolas' good hand.

"This way!" Estel pulled Legolas along, leading him through various paths and garden oases until Legolas' nose caught the scent of fire and hot metal. Ahead of them stood a building slightly more stout than the delicate architecture of the rest of Imladris and a pillar of smoke rose from the building's chimney. The heavy ring of metal being hammered upon an anvil rang from the building's open windows and doors.

"I love watching Curwë smith! He is the best here and Ada has many of his weapons made by Curwë," Estel said over his shoulder, walking boldly into the smithy.

"Estel!" a jovial voice called. Legolas entered the smithy to see an elf removing his smithing gloves to tousle Estel's hair. The elf was broad shouldered and bare armed. His hair was the color of rusted steel, and it hung in a thick braid down his back.

"I brought the Prince with me, Curwë," Estel said excitedly, causing the smith to look in Legolas' direction. The smith's brown eyes lit in recognition and he stepped from behind his anvil to bow at Legolas.

"You honor me, Prince," Curwë said, saluting Legolas with a hand over his heart. Legolas nodded at the elf-smith, squashing down the ire that the smith's genuflection stirred within him.

"I am glad to see you well; the Lord Elrond gave me your weapons to clean and hone for you when you came. He told me you had received a poisoned wound and that you were in dire need of healing. I am happy to see the Valar's providence," Curwë's said, drawing Legolas out of his self-deprecation.

"Thank you," Legolas said. "My weapons are an heirloom to my house and I am glad they were cared for."

"You are welcome, Prince, though, it seems to me your knife was one of a set," Curwë said.

"Indeed, there were two, but one was lost," Legolas answered vaguely, not wanting to explain that one of his knives was still sunk into the skull of a giant Gundabad orc. Curwë studied Legolas for a moment, his brown eyes perceptive. Estel looked between the two elves patiently, obviously used to the moments between the fair folk when words were not used.

"Well," Curwë said, breaking the silence. "If you wish to have a mate for your knife, I will make one. You need only ask," Curwë then looked to Estel with a smile. "I hate to push you out, but I must get back to work and I would not wish to face your mother if I got you soot-stained,"

"Very well," Estel said, his expression slightly deflated. Curwë smiled at the lad, his brown eyes kind.

"If the Prince wishes for another knife, I will let you watch," Curwë said. Estel smiled at the elf then scooted away before Curwë could swat him with his smithing glove. Legolas nodded at the smith, feeling the smith's perceptive eyes upon him as he left.

"I wish I could be a smith and a healer but Ada says I must learn healing before smithing," Estel said wistfully, as he led Legolas away from the smithy.

"Healing is as important as smithing," Legolas supplied, smiling when he noticed the smudge of soot on Estel's cheek. The lad hadn't escaped the smithy completely unscathed after all. Estel looked at Legolas over his shoulder as he walked.

"But it would be nice to be able to heal people's wounds and then smith better weapons and armor so that they aren't hurt as much," Estel's voice was matter of fact and he shrugged his small shoulders in a dismissive way that made him appear older than his years.

"I have never thought of it that way," Legolas said, marveling at the child's astuteness.

"Ada always tells me to think outside of the obvious. He says it will help me when I'm grown,"

"That is true. I have had to teach new recruits to my Guard how to think upon their feet when they are in trying situations,"

"You are a Prince _and_ a Captain?" Estel rounded upon Legolas, his eyes bright with curiosity.

"Yes, I was the captain of the king's Guard," Legolas answered, closing his eyes against visions of an eager young she-elf with flaming red hair and sparkling green eyes. Legolas did not know how long his eyes were closed but he felt Estel's hand tentatively touch his arm.

"Legolas?" The boy's voice was worried and when Legolas opened his eyes, Estel was staring at him intently.

"You are sad again. Your eyes are dark," Estel said, his own grey eyes turning worried. A strange remorse settled upon Legolas and he forced a smile upon his face, hoping Estel's worry would vanish.

"Just a memory, nothing more," Legolas said. Estel studied Legolas carefully, and then continued to walk, leading Legolas by the hand. Legolas' conscience smote him as they walked. He should not burden one so young with his trials, even if the lad was more astute than most boys his age.

As they rounded a bend in the path, Legolas heard the whinny of a horse. When he looked at Estel, a smile broke upon the boy's face.

"The stables are my second favorite place. Aewelu lets me help her with the horses sometimes. Did you know that there are people in a place called Rohan who let their horses live in their houses with them? And that there are magical horses called _Mearas_ that only their king can ride?" Estel jabbered excitedly.

"Yes, I have heard of the customs of Rohan, though I have never been there," Legolas said.

"Well, I'm going to go there one day, just to see if they will let me have a _Mearas,_ "

Legolas only chuckled, letting Estel think what he liked. When they entered the stable, several horses looked out of their stalls at Estel and Legolas with curious eyes. Estel walked to the nearest stall, where a striking white stallion looked down upon the lad. Estel giggled as the horse nuzzled his face and the boy wrapped his arms around the stallion's long face.

"This is Nillë, Glorfindel's stallion. He's my favorite," Estel rubbed the stallion's forehead, eliciting a content nicker from the horse. Legolas leaned back against the wall of the stable, watching Estel and the horse. A sound at the end of the stables drew Legolas' attention away from Estel and Nillë and he looked up to see an elf watching them. The elf was slight of build with white-blonde hair. She looked at Legolas with eyes the color of spring bluebirds and Legolas straightened from the wall. Estel saw Legolas move and he looked over at the she-elf.

"Aewelu! I didn't see you," Estel smiled at the elf-maid and she smiled back, though her gaze remained tentative when she looked at Legolas.

"Legolas," Legolas offered his name and bowed at the elf-maid. Seeming to come to her senses, the elf-maid bowed as well.

"Legolas is a Prince and a captain! Ada let me show him around so I am taking him to my favorite places," Estel rattled still petting Nillë's broad head. Aewelu studied Legolas carefully, and her demeanor was almost the opposite of the smith Legolas had met moments before.

"It is an honor, Prince," Aewelu finally said, bowing again. "I was born under the boughs of the Greenwood and its memory has never left me,"

Legolas' curiosity sparked and he walked toward the elf-maid.

"I do not remember you; what is your family's name? I must know them," Legolas asked, smiling at Aewelu. The elf-maid's gaze became instantly guarded and she crossed her arms across her chest.

"There is none left. I am the only one. My father died in Oropher's charge upon the Dagorlad and my mother faded away in grief. I left the Greenwood for there was only pain there for me," Aewelu said in Sindarin, her voice steely. Legolas was taken aback, and he stood dumbfounded for a moment. Aewelu cast a quick glance beyond Legolas to watch Estel with Nillë.

"I am sorry for your pain," Legolas said when Aewelu's eyes flicked back to him. The elf-maid studied Legolas for a moment then dropped her arms to her side.

"The Greenwood is a bitter place; it will eventually drive all who love it away," Aewelu turned from Legolas, lifting a saddle from a workbench and placing it upon a rack. Legolas though was not watching the elf-maid any longer, her words still echoing in his ears.

 _…_ _it will eventually drive all who love it away…_

"Legolas," Estel's voice broke into Legolas' thoughts and he looked at the lad. Estel was brushing white horsehair from his tunic and he looked up at the elf.

"I can probably only show you one more place before I have to return to Ada for my lessons,"

"That is fine," Legolas replied, eager to leave the presence of Aewelu. Estel took Legolas' hand then but before they left, Legolas heard Aewelu behind them. Legolas stopped, turning to look at the elf-maid. She smiled at Estel though her eyes glinted at Legolas.

"If you hurt him, you will regret it," Aewelu said in Sindarin, still holding her smile in place. Legolas nodded at the elf-maid, feeling his anger flare at Aewelu's words. But the elf-maid had turned back to Estel and her eyes had softened.

"I will see you for your riding lesson tomorrow?"

"Yes!" Estel answered enthusiastically. Aewelu laughed and brushed some horsehair from Estel's tunic that he had missed.

"I will see you then," Aewelu said, turning away from Legolas and Estel and returning to her tasks.

"Goodbye Aewelu!" Estel called, pulling Legolas away from the stables with him. The unlikely pair walked in silence for a moment, until Estel slowed and looked back at Legolas.

"What did Aewelu say you would regret?" Estel asked. Legolas stopped in his tracks, worry washing over him.

"You know Sindarin?" Legolas asked.

"Only a little," Estel said, kicking at the ground. "But Ada is teaching me and I heard the word regret," Estel added, defending his knowledge. Legolas' mind scrambled and fought to think of what to tell the boy. He did not want to lie but he could not bring himself to tell the whole truth.

"Aewelu only said I would regret not being your friend," Legolas finally said, his conscience stinging him as he spoke the half-truth. Estel smiled though and did not seem to catch onto Legolas' evasion.

"I hope we can be friends," Estel said. Legolas did not answer, but nodded as Estel led him along the path again. They eventually came to a wide silver pool ringed with a thin layer of ice. A small waterfall churned the water at one end, though the rest remained still and calm. Estel led Legolas straight to the edge and looked up at the elf with an impish smile.

"Sometimes they do not come out in the winter, but I might be able to get them to," Estel said, picking up a small pebble and tossing it into the middle of the pond. Nothing moved for a long while except the ripples caused by Estel's pebble. Then, Legolas' sharp eyes saw movement under the water. Slowly, a shape rose to the surface until Legolas saw that it was a fish. This fish though was nothing like Legolas had ever seen. Its body was as long as Estel was tall, and its white scales shimmered with a pearly rainbow. Long barbles hung from the corner of the fish's mouth and it gulped at the surface of the water before slowly sinking down into the depths of the pond.

"Ada calls them cillim, or 'love fish.' They are more fun to watch in the summer though," Estel said.

"How many are there?" Legolas asked, his eyes catching the shadow of movement below the water's still surface.

"Only two," Estel replied, tossing another pebble into the water. The ripples spread out to the icy edges of the pond, though the large fish did not rise this time.

"When it's warm out, I like to sit and watch them swim. Mama likes it too; she says it's a very peaceful place," Estel paused for a moment, looking up at the sky. "Ada will be looking for me. I better go," Estel looked crestfallen and he started to walk off. Legolas was suddenly flustered by the lad's obvious wish to stay with him and he cast about for what to do.

"You are overthinking everything," Legolas muttered under his breath, taking quick strides to catch up with Estel. The boy's face instantly lighted and he smiled at Legolas with joy.

"I'll walk you to your lessons and when you're done, you cancome find me," Legolas said quickly, hoping the lad did not notice how flustered he was. Estel only smiled and walked next to Legolas, his face the picture of contentment.

* * *

Gilraen sat at her small desk in her room, tiredly regarding a stack of letters that needed her attention. As she picked up the first letter, she saw the seal of her kin upon the parchment. Its signet always brought back memories and this time was no different.

The Lord Elrond had been extremely gracious to her and Estel after Arathorn's death. The elf-lord had provided for their every need and even built them their own home apart from the main house so they might have a little more peace when needed. Gilraen could think of nothing that she had done to merit the Lord Elrond's favor but she was eternally grateful for his generosity. She could not even think of returning to her people after Arathorn's death. She could not endanger her family in that way. After some time in Imladris, the Lord Elrond adopted Estel as his foster-son. it was a surprise to Gilraen, though it touched her deeply. It was such an honor that Gilraen could not think of the act without feeling tears sting the backs of her eyes. Estel had been too young to truly know his father when Arathorn was slain and the lad had latched onto the lord Elrond as the father he so dearly needed. Six years had now passed since Arathorn's death though Gilraen felt its sting every day.

Her marriage had been unconventional at best. Not for lack of love between her and Arathorn but for the strife it had caused in her own family. Her father had protested at their blooming love, though her mother had seen that a great hope would be borne out of their union. Gilraen well remembered the day of her and Arathorn's union and she thought of it with bittersweet nostalgia.

Arathorn was the most handsome man she had seen, and the only sign of his years was a sprinkling of silver at his temples. He had dressed in the black and silver of his father's house and wore a star-like gem upon his brow. Gilraen could not forget the butterflies that had erupted in her stomach as she had beheld her groom the morning of her wedding. Though she had been dressed in snow-white silk and bedecked with glittering gems, she had felt as plain as a washer-woman next to Arathorn. She could still see the love shining from Arathorn's eyes as they pledged themselves to one another. Still feel the warmth of his kiss that wedding night…

Gilraen sighed, wiping the errant tear from her cheek. Now was not the time for self-pity, and Gilraen finally opened the letter she held, reading over it quickly. Since she had lived in Imladris, she had become a sort of spokeswoman for the needs of her kin and the rangers in the north. Though Elrond's twin sons traveled with the Rangers, they were often abroad and unreachable, so if there arose a need, a message would be sent to Gilraen. More often than not, Elrond would supply what he could to the Dúnedain, but always Gilraen was sought out. At first, it puzzled her that she would be given such attention and responsibility. But then Elrond had said something that had shed light upon the deference the Dúnedain showed her.

 _"_ _You bore them a son; the heir of Isildur. They could not forget you, and who your husband was even if they tried. You hold their last hope in your arms,"_

So Gilraen had continued as their emissary, if only for the sake of her son. She would tell him one day who he truly was. When he was ready, he would know his true heritage.

Gilraen worked diligently upon her letters until her neck stiffened and her eyes became blurry. Thankfully, there was little need among the Dúnedain for now, so she did not need to ask much from Elrond. Sitting back, Gilraen stretched her arms above her head and stood, arching her back. She cast a look out of her window, just barely seeing the small forms of Elrond and Estel in the pavilion off the elf-lord's study. Though it was winter, the sun was still warm and Gilraen smiled at the sight. She hoped Arathorn knew that his son was well-loved and cared for. She watched as Elrond said something to Estel then closed the book that was in Estel's hand. The lad leaped up with a cheer, embracing Elrond before dashing away.

With a sigh, Gilraen donned her cloak and left her home, hoping to find Elrond still free so she could relay the requests of her people.

* * *

Legolas paced his room, unable to rest though the sun had long disappeared from the sky. He and Estel had spent the afternoon wandering around Imladris, and the lad had taught Legolas much about the place. Legolas was surprised by the boy's knowledge but when he thought of the lad's tutor, it was no surprise that Estel could spout vast amounts of information. But the afternoon's events weren't what troubled Legolas. It was who he had met that morning.

Legolas could not drive Aewelu's words from his mind, and he thought upon them with a mixture of offense and sadness.

 _The Greenwood is a bitter place; it will eventually drive all who love it away_

The elf-maid's words had stung across Legolas' heart like the lash of a whip and when she had first uttered them, Legolas could not comprehend what she had meant. But then realization, so stark and startling, had sunk in so that Legolas felt the words were branded in his mind. And that he, Legolas Thranduilion, was here in Imladris, only proved Aewelu's words and it smote Legolas' heart a heavy blow. He knew he had chosen to leave. He knew the responsibility was upon his shoulders but Legolas could not help the spark of anger and defensiveness that arose in his soul at his homeland being described as such.

With a frustrated sigh, Legolas left his chambers, hoping his tangled thoughts would remain behind. But it was not so, and Legolas walked quietly through the halls of Imladris, eventually finding himself out next to the icy pond of the cillim. Legolas walked around the pond, his eyes catching silver glimmers here and there as the moonlight shined down upon the silver water. When he came close to the small waterfall, Legolas heard the sounds of quiet crying. He stopped, looking around until he saw the almost hidden bench behind winter hollies. Upon the bench sat Estel's mother.

"Are you well?" Legolas asked softly, bringing Gilraen's eyes around to see him. The woman quickly swiped tears from her cheeks and she stood quickly. Legolas walked towards her, motioning for her to sit down.

"Do you mind if I join you?" Legolas asked. Gilraen nodded, sitting down on the bench again and wrapping her fur-lined cloak tighter about her shoulders. Legolas sat down at the opposite end of the bench but the bench was small, and if he moved much, his shoulders would touch Gilraen's easily. The night was cold, and Legolas wondered why Gilraen was out and not asleep.

"It is a cold night," Legolas said leadingly, watching Gilraen carefully.

"Indeed," Gilraen answered, her voice still sounding thick with tears. Legolas wondered how much he could inquire of the woman, and he chose his next words carefully.

"Estel told me this was one of your favorite places. He said you often come here to think," Legolas watched Gilraen's profile, and he did not miss the watery smile that passed across Gilraen's face.

"He does not miss much," Gilraen said, turning to look at Legolas. "Please forgive my tears; this time of year is a trial for me," Gilraen added.

"Tears are not wrong," Legolas said softly, watching as moisture built upon the edge of Gilraen's lashes before falling softly upon her cheek. Gilraen wiped the tear away and lifted her face to the sky. She closed her eyes to try and compose herself, but more tears slipped from between her closed lids. Legolas watched her helplessly, eventually gently taking her hand in his. Gilraen looked at him in surprise, but did not pull her hand away.

"Would you tell me why?" Legolas asked, looking into Gilraen's grey eyes. Something in the woman's expression tugged and Legolas' heart and he could not bear to watch her weep in silence. Gilraen wiped her face with her free hand and took a deep breath.

"My husband and I were married in late winter. Though he has been dead nearly eight years, the pain has not left my heart. I fear it never will," Gilraen spoke, her voice gaining strength. Legolas sat back, releasing Gilraen's hand to let her tuck it into the warmth of her cloak.

"Grief was never meant for this world. Perhaps it is why it leaves such a mark upon our souls?" Legolas said quietly, remembering his mother as he spoke. Gilraen nodded, sniffling a little as she contemplated Legolas' words.

"I have always envied the elves and the way they seem unaffected by life's trials," Gilraen said after a time. A bitter laugh sprang from Legolas' mouth before he could stifle it and Gilraen looked at him curiously. Legolas sat forward, leaning his elbows upon his knees.

"Though our faces may reflect joy, our souls carry every hurt with us until our feet touch the shores of Valinor or our souls return to Mandos. Ilúvatar made it so," Legolas could not keep the bitterness from his voice as he saw the many faces of his comrades who had fallen upon the slopes of Erebor. Though he fought it, he could not stop his mind from seeing flaming red hair brushing a bloodied face, and green eyes that had once danced now weeping. Legolas grit his teeth as he felt the anger swell in his chest. Gilraen shifted beside him and Legolas heard the woman take a breath.

"Perhaps it is your turn to tell me?" Gilraen said. Legolas looked back, sitting up straight when he saw Gilraen's worried expression. His soul balked at putting words to his thoughts but Gilraen's kind expression had the words tumbling from Legolas' mouth before he knew it.

"I abandoned my home because the one I loved chose another. And the one she chose died before her very eyes. I could not stay and watch her grief. I could not stay and have my father act as if nothing had ever happened," Legolas felt his anger growing and he clamped his mouth shut before any more words could escape. Shame quickly washed over him as his petulant words rang in his ears and Legolas did not dare look at Gilraen. He did not wish to see the judgement in her eyes.

"Perhaps her heart will heal? Perhaps she will find you again someday?" Gilraen finally said, drawing Legolas' eyes to her own. His heart swelled at Gilraen's words but his mind fought against them. _She_ would not have him; _he_ abandoned _her_ when she needed him the most. But his pride had been too wounded, his heart been too sick at the loss of life about him.

"If you say elves carry every hurt with them, I would think it would make them more thankful for the good in life," Gilraen said quietly. Legolas studied Gilraen carefully, her words having snuffed the anger in his chest like water upon a fire. He sat back in silence, contemplating the simplicity of Gilraen's words. When he looked over at the woman, her expression was tired but not condescending or reproachful, and Legolas marveled at the depth of hurt that shone from her eyes. After a moment of silence, Gilraen shivered and rose from the bench.

"I should not be gone so long from Estel,"

Gilraen's mention of Estel brought a question to Legolas' mind and he voiced it before the woman moved on.

"Estel… who is he? Really?"

Gilraen paused and her posture stiffened but when she looked back at Legolas, her face was still kind.

"That is a conversation for another night," Gilraen demurred. "Goodnight, Prince,"

Legolas stood then, placing his hand over his heart in farewell. Gilraen smiled, and a strange light entered her eyes before she nodded then disappeared into the cold night. Legolas sat in the silence as she left, watching the clouds his breath made in the cold air. Gilraen seemed to have an understanding deeper than her years, and Legolas wondered who she and Estel truly were. He knew they were of the Dúnedain, but other than that, Legolas could not see what their importance was.

 _Your father sent you away knowing you would find nothing…_

Legolas shoved the bitter thought away as soon as it reared its ugly head and stood quickly from the bench. The night was nearly spent, and though Gilraen had given him much to think about, Legolas felt more at peace than he had before.

* * *

A/N: This was a longer chapter and I hope I didn't bore any of you. Thank you all for your reads, reviews, favorites, and follows!


	4. Chapter 4

Legolas woke the next morning to the sound of someone entering his room. When he looked up, the Lord Elrond stood in the doorway. The elf-lord carried salve and bandages in his hands, though he was without his constant shadow, Estel.

"I am sorry to have woken you but I wished to speak with you before Estel claimed your attention," Elrond said, moving forward as Legolas swung his legs from the bed. Without permission, Elrond set to taking the old bandages from Legolas' arm and applying the new.

"You do indeed heal quickly once all infection is gone," Elrond said as he tied a neat knot just above Legolas' elbow.

"Thank you," Legolas said, rising from his bed. Elrond nodded but remained silent for a moment until Legolas looked back to the elf-lord.

"Your arm is doing quite well and you should start using it more so that the new skin does not stiffen and scar quite so badly,"

Legolas listened to Elrond, hearing in the elf lord's voice that he was not through speaking.

"Estel is the age where he has started to learn swordsmanship and archery. My sons have expressed their wishes to teach Estel, but their travels keep them from doing so. I think you would be a good teacher for Estel, especially since he has quickly become so fond of you," Elrond's expression was entreating and Legolas took a moment to think.

"Perhaps he is too fond of me for me to teach him? I am not harsh, but would any reprimand from me crush him so much that he will wish to quit?"

A small smile passed over Elrond's face and he patted Legolas on the shoulder.

"I have thought of that myself and the only way we will know is to have you teach him. Will you do it?"

Legolas fell silent in thought, his mind turning the proposition over in his mind. One of the joys of being his father's captain had been to train the younger recruits when they came along. True, he had not taught a child in many, many years, but Estel seemed wiser than his years. becoming the boy's teacher would indeed give Legolas a fair reason to remain in Imladris as well, and to the elf-prince, that was enough of a reason to stay.

"I will do it," Legolas finally answered. Elrond smiled and clapped Legolas on the shoulder.

"Estel has a riding lesson with Aewelu after the noon meal, but he is free until evening,"

"He will need lessons almost every day; will that be a problem?" Legolas asked, knowing Estel would tire quickly in the beginning. Elrond stopped for a moment, rubbing his chin in thought.

"I trust you to use your best judgment. If he needs to rest one day, he can still learn by watching," Elrond smiled again and then walked to the door. But as he came to the door, Elrond turned again.

"In the armory, there is a sword for you. I believe you will find it familiar," then Elrond disappeared, leaving Legolas in silence.

Legolas stood in the calm of his room for a moment, gathering his thoughts. He had seen the armory and the practice rings the day before but it had only been in passing. Obviously, from Elrond's words, the elf-lord had been thinking of this proposition for some time. Especially since Elrond had already had a sword ready for him in the armory.

With a sigh, Legolas readied himself for the day, knowing it would indeed be full.

* * *

After Legolas had taken some breakfast, he returned to his room to fetch his bow and quiver. The quiver had been emptied of the arrows he had taken from the ranger camp and its leather polished and shined so that Legolas did not even want to touch it to smudge with his fingerprints. He deftly slid his arms through the leather straps of the quiver, the light weight of its emptiness bringing a frown to his face. Legolas sighed, pushing his melancholic thoughts away; now was not a time to be morose.

As he left his room, Legolas heard Estel's small voice ringing down the halls. He could hear the lad telling someone a tale he had learned the day before and Legolas smiled at the expression in Estel's voice. He had the urge to follow the boy's voice and listen to his tale as well, but he resisted, knowing he had much to do before the afternoon came.

As he walked through the halls, the elves that met him greeted him with deference, and instead of anger, Legolas felt slightly abashed. He should be here representing his father with honor, not sulking like a spoiled child. But then he remembered the unsaid words in his father's parting expression, and any remorse Legolas felt was washed away by hurt. He was not ready to be his father's son; not yet.

When he came to the armory, Legolas entered with trepidation. Swordmasters were often protective of their armories, and Legolas looked around to see if anyone was about. Suddenly, there was a flash of flaming red hair and Legolas froze, his mind conjuring the impossible. She could not be here. She could not have followed him.

"Greetings, Prince," a female voice called and an elf with flaming red hair stepped from behind a weapons rack. Another elf, male, followed her and his hands casually touched the female elf with the familiarity of a husband.

"My husband told me he met you yesterday," the female elf chirped, finally drawing Legolas' eyes to her own. Blue-grey eyes met his instead of sparkling green and the tightness in Legolas' chest lessened. Legolas looked to the male elf, seeing that it was the smith, Curwë.

"Well met again, Curwë," Legolas said, having to clear his throat to speak. The smith nodded at him and smiled broadly.

"The same, Prince," Curwë replied in his jolly voice. "This is my wife, Gaerill," Curwë gestured to the female elf, and Gaerill curtsied as she smiled at Legolas.

"The Lord Elrond has told me that you are to teach Estel; that is wonderful!" Gaerill gushed, beaming at Legolas. Legolas tentatively smiled back at Gaerill, not fully recovered from his shock. He felt foolish for thinking what he had and the pounding of his heart had shown that she still had power over him even now. Curwë seemed to pick up on Legolas' distress and he touched Gaerill upon the shoulder.

"Perhaps you should show the prince what he is searching for?" Curwë smiled at his wife, and her eyes sparkled back at him. "I'm off to the smithy. If you need anything, you know where to find me," Curwë said, kissing his wife upon the cheek and clapping Legolas upon the shoulder as he walked past.

"Well then, let us get the things you need," Gaerill said, clapping her hands and nearly making Legolas jump. The elf prince grit his teeth and smiled tightly as Gaerill sailed through the racks of weapons. His mood had instantly turned grim as his scare showed the true state of his heart.

"Here we are," Gaerill said, stopping before a rack of swords near the back of the room. She turned to Legolas with a smile, her eyes alight with some secret.

"Lord Elrond was going to send this to your father when the time was right; it seems you have changed his plans," Gaerill chirped. She stepped from in front of the weapon's rack, gesturing to a sword. Legolas' eyes widened at the swirling leaves embossed onto the sheath of the sword and the green stone set into the sword's pommel. Legolas gently lifted the weapon from the rack, pulling the gleaming blade free of the polished leather. The curved blade glistened in the light and upon its guarding edge, swirling filigree and runes covered the metal.

"It is the sword of your Grandsire, Oropher," Gaerill whispered reverently. Legolas had nearly forgotten Gaerill was still next to him, and he looked at her quizzically.

"How did he get this?"

"I do not know; you will have to ask the lord Elrond himself. I have merely kept watch over it," Gaerill replied, lifting her slight shoulders in a shrug. A quick shadow passed over her eyes but then she smiled at Legolas.

"Take anything you might need to teach Estel," then Gaerill turned and walked away, leaving Legolas still holding his grandfather's sword. Legolas was shocked yet again but this time, he was overcome by awe rather than anger.

The sword was shaped much like his father's, though Legolas noted, it was even more grandly decorated and intricate than Thranduil's blade. Every leaf etched into the metal was enameled green, and culminated in a twisting green vine that wrapped down the grip to the green stone set in the pommel. A small smile quirked Legolas' mouth as he wondered if his Grandsire had possessed the same flare and boldness his father did. Carefully, Legolas swung the blade, instantly feeling both the lightness and strength of the metal. A satisfied smile came to Legolas' lips as he sheathed the sword and he felt his mood brighten some.

With Oropher's sword in hand, Legolas walked up and down the rows of weapons, searching for the one he thought right for Estel. The boy was tall for his age, but he had yet to reach the time of change, and his young body had much yet to grow. Any sword would be heavy for a beginner, but Legolas finally chose a short sword to start teaching Estel. In time, he would let Estel try every type of sword he could find, so that the lad would be able to choose the weapon that best suited him.

Sheaves of arrows caught his eyes, and Legolas wondered if he should start the lad in archery as well. After a moment of thought, he decided to see how Estel fared after a few day's training before he piled more upon him. Before he left the armory though, Legolas tucked a sheaf of arrows into his quiver. He had several hours to prepare for Estel's lessons but the familiar itch to hone his own skills had him heading toward the archery range. The range stood just beyond the practice rings, and when Legolas had set Estel's sword and guards into one ring, he walked quickly to the range.

Legolas tested his bowstring then strung his bow, completing the familiar task with practiced speed. He then knocked an arrow, staring down its length to the target beyond. He could feel the small gusts of wind that blew past him and he adjusted his aim. Releasing the arrow, Legolas smiled as the familiar shock radiated up his arm and the soft thud of the arrow sounded ahead of him. He then fired off three shots in succession, hemming his first arrow in from all sides. He took a moment to gauge how his injured right arm felt, and he smiled as the healing wound barely twinged. In a matter of minutes, Legolas had emptied his quiver, and he walked to the target, inspecting his shots. Most arrows had struck where he had desired, though a few were the most minuscule measurement off. Being the smallest bit off during battle could mean life or death, and Legolas pulled his arrows from the target, his jaw set in determination. There was nothing more soothing to his mind than practice.

Legolas did not know how much time had passed, but he suddenly heard the sound of Estel's voice coming from the armory. Legolas lowered his bow and walked to the target, pulling the spent arrows free. By the time he had filled his quiver and walked to the small pile of weapons he had left in the ring, Estel was running out of the armory, his mother, Gilraen, at his heels. Legolas smiled at the woman as their eyes met and Gilraen smiled back tentatively. Estel rushed up to Legolas' side, chattering excitedly.

"I could not believe Ada when he told me you were going to be my teacher!"

"Yes, I was surprised as well," Legolas replied as he watched Estel practically dancing in excitement. Legolas cast a quick glance at Gilraen; the woman's expression had turned inward, and her eyes watched her son unseeingly.

"It is time to begin," Legolas said, lifting his quiver from his back and placing it next to his grandfather's sword. Estel ran and stood before Legolas, but he shuffled his feet and grinned expectantly. Legolas was pleased with Estel's eagerness, though he knew he could not teach the lad anything until he taught the boy how to harness his emotions.

"First, we will not start with the sword," Legolas said, having to hide his smile as shock radiated over Estel's face. "First, you must learn to harness your emotions to aid you in battle,"

"What do you mean?" Estel asked, his expression confused.

"No matter what state of mind you are in, you must use it to give you focus, to keep yourself one step ahead of your enemy. If you are over excited or angry or sad, you must shore up those weaknesses for any enemy will try to exploit them," Legolas said, crouching in the sand in front of Estel. The boy studied him with serious eyes.

"So I must not feel anything?" Estel asked, frowning some. Legolas smiled then, remembering a teacher from long ago answering his same question.

"We must feel everything, but not one thing at one time. The key is to use all of yourself when fighting. Using all your feelings and senses to hone your focus to a needle point," Legolas watched as Estel digested the ambiguous information, his expression still serious.

"How do I learn to do that?" Estel asked next, the light of challenge burning in his eyes. Legolas smiled and walked to the side of the ring to retrieve Estel's sword.

"You can only learn by doing," Legolas said, handing the sword to Estel. The boy grinned widely but then sobered when he felt Legolas' eyes upon him. Legolas could not stop the chuckle that left his mouth, and he unsheathed Oropher's sword and began his lesson.

* * *

Legolas sat next to the roaring fire, watching as Estel swayed in his seat. The lad had done marvelously and had only showed strain near the end of his lesson. Legolas had begun to show Estel the basics of swordplay and the boy had caught on quickly. Legolas had taught enough pupils to know natural talent when it stood before him and Estel had enough for two boys his age. Legolas did not know if it was because Estel was surrounded by elves or by some other means but the boy possessed grace and agility beyond his years. In spite of that though, Estel still tired like boys his age and he was now slumped against his mother as his eyes fluttered in sleep.

"Greetings, Prince,"

Legolas looked up to see that Aewelu walked towards him. The elf-maid studied Legolas with unsearchable eyes and Legolas felt his defense rise. The elf-maid surprisingly sat next to Legolas and he watched her surreptitiously, trying to read her motives.

"I apologize for my words yesterday; it is not my place to speak to a prince so familiarly," Aewelu said quietly, only loud enough for her and Legolas to hear.

"You are forgiven," Legolas said, unable to keep the surprise from his voice. Aewelu looked at him quickly, her expression unreadable.

"You did not expect this did you?" Aewelu said, her gaze becoming challenging.

"I did not, only for the fervency of your words. You sounded quite resolute in your opinion," Legolas replied carefully. To his surprise, Aewelu's expression became somewhat bitter and her eyes hardened.

"My opinions have not changed; I only regret the way I expressed them,"

Legolas sat back then, truly confounded by the elf-maid before him. Aewelu studied him boldly, her blue eyes sharp.

"My homeland is not as bad a place as you make it to be," Legolas said, voicing what he had wanted to the day before. Aewelu raised one fine eyebrow, her eyes becoming like daggers.

"You profess to love the Greenwood, but then again, here you sit, far away from hearth and home,"

Legolas instantly felt anger burst into flames in his chest and it only grew as a satisfied expression crossed Aewelu's face.

"Goodnight, _Prince,_ " Aewelu said, saying Legolas' title as if it were an insult. Legolas watched the elf-maid go in shock and anger. He did not know what he had done in his short time in Imladris to incur Aewelu's wrath but it irked him to no end. He was about to rise and leave the communal firelight when he saw Gilraen trying to wake Estel. Legolas rose quickly, lifting the lad away from his mother and smiling at the woman as she rose.

"Thank you," Gilraen said, brushing an imaginary wrinkle from her skirts. Legolas only nodded, and walked next to Gilraen when she began to walk away. there was silence between the two as they walked. Estel had not woken when Legolas lifted him, and though the boy was tall for his age, he was still light and Legolas carried him with ease.

"You seem to have caught the eye of Aewelu," Gilraen said, looking at Legolas. If it were not for the purely innocent look in Gilraen's eyes, Legolas would have scoffed aloud.

"If her way of showing interest is to humiliate and anger, I would be loath to see how she treats those she dislikes," Legolas said, trying unsuccessfully to keep the edge from his voice. Gilraen looked surprised, though she remained silent.

"Aewelu has only ever been kind to Estel and I. I know she can be hard at times, but she has a good soul beneath her bluster," Gilraen finally said, her voice a placating, motherly tone.

"I do not doubt that she cares for you," Legolas said dryly, well remembering the veiled threat Aewelu had given if he were to hurt Estel. Gilraen cast an inquisitive glance at Legolas but remained silent. Soon enough, they reached Gilraen and Estel's home. Gilraen led Legolas inside and ushered him to a smaller room where a single bed stood. Several types of toys and books were scattered about the room and Legolas smiled at the quaint scene. When he gently laid Estel into bed, the boy smiled in his sleep and something tugged in Legolas' heart. No matter what Aewelu said, Legolas was meant to be here. At least for now.

"Thank you again," Gilraen said as Legolas lowered the heavy curtain between Estel's room and the main living area. Legolas gave Gilraen a small smile.

"You are welcome," Legolas replied before leaving quietly out the door.

* * *

"Move your feet, Estel!" Legolas called out, smiling when the lad adjusted his stance quickly to stand in the proper place. Legolas quickly executed a move that Estel immediately mirrored and Legolas felt another smile cross his face. Several weeks had passed since his coming to Imladris, and he had now been teaching Estel for a little over a month. The lad had soaked up any and all information that Legolas gave him and he was a natural with a blade. Though, he still had much to learn, Legolas could see the spark of greatness in Estel.

Legolas executed another form, watching as Estel copied him again, to near perfection. He had the boy hold the form for a moment, but relented when he saw the slight quiver in Estel's muscles and the small beads of sweat forming upon his young brow.

"Take a rest," Legolas said, watching as Estel dropped his arms with a sigh and wiped the side of his face upon his shoulder. Legolas handed Estel a cup of water from a pitcher Gilraen had brought and the boy gulped the liquid down. Legolas lifted his face to the sky, closing his eyes and letting the early spring sun warm his face. Spring came more early in Imladris than back in Mirkwood, and Legolas found the early season to be a joy.

"I'm ready, master Legolas," Estel's voice drew Legolas' eyes back down to earth and he smiled at the boy. He did not know when Estel took to calling him "master Legolas," but the elf liked it more than his former title and he did not wish to dissuade Estel from calling him so.

"Let us work upon your defensive moves now," Legolas said, standing in front of Estel. The boy took a defensive stance, and Legolas moved towards him, exaggerating his movements. With each touch of their blades, Legolas would show Estel where the weak points in his attack were as well as any weak points in Estel's defense. Soon, sweat once again beaded upon Estel's brow, and he fought hard to keep his ground. Just as Legolas was about to touch the edge of his sword against Estel's collarbone, a horn-call rang from the gate of Imladris. Gilraen quickly stood from her watching place, drawing Estel's eyes to his mother.

"Is it Elladan and Elrohir?" Estel asked, quickly forgetting his lesson and dropping his arms.

"I do not know," Gilraen said, moving to go to the gate.

"Go, I will bring him shortly," Legolas said, nodding at Gilraen for her to leave. The woman left quickly, and Legolas wondered if she were expecting someone. He had not spoken personally to Gilraen since the night he had carried Estel home for her, nearly a month ago. For a while, Legolas thought he had done something to offend Gilraen, but as he reviewed his past actions toward the woman, he could find nothing amiss. So he was sure to be kind to her and show her the deference due her role as Estel's mother. But the woman had become so quiet and withdrawn that Legolas could not help feel if something was amiss.

"I think mama misses her family," Estel said, causing Legolas to whip his head towards the boy. He wondered if he had voiced any of his thoughts aloud but when he looked at Estel, the boy's eyes were still upon the place his mother had just vacated.

"Perhaps she does," Legolas replied, hoping his worry had not fueled Estel's own. The boy stared after his mother for a moment, then looked at Legolas with a smile.

"Can we go see who's at the gate?"

"Yes," Legolas answered, sheathing his grandfather's sword. Estel sheathed his own weapon before quickly running into the armory to store it away. Legolas waited for the lad, smiling when Estel ran to his side. They walked quickly through Imladris meeting several other elves that obviously wished to see who desired to enter their home. When they came to the courtyard, Legolas stopped in his tracks, his eyes locking upon the diminutive form of a Halfling. The Halfling was smiling and talking to Elrond as he rocked back upon his heels. Legolas was surprised the Halfling was alone until the strange scent of pipe weed wafted to his nose and a strong hand was suddenly upon his shoulder.

"Legolas Greenleaf, it is strange to meet you here,"

"Gandalf, I…" Legolas faltered, surprised that the wizard had snuck up on him and unable to give a reason why he was in Imladris. Gandalf's uncannily sharp eyes did not miss the turmoil in Legolas expression and he clapped the elf upon the shoulder again.

"We will talk later," the wizard said, turning then to Estel, who still stood by Legolas' side. "How are you Estel? Mr. Baggins did not get to meet you last we were here and I believe you will find a friend in him,"

"I think I was sick when you were here with all the dwarves. Mama told me about them though; did they find their home?" Estel asked, his young face inquisitive. Gandalf smiled, though a sorrowful shadow passed over his face.

"They did indeed, young one, but you will have to wait to hear that tale," Gandalf said, ruffling Estel's hair. Estel smiled and bashfully smoothed his hair back into place.

"Come," Gandalf said. "Come, meet Mr. Baggins," the wizard gently steered Estel towards the Halfling, introducing the lad when they were within earshot of the hobbit. Legolas though, slipped away from the scene, memories he had tried to quell the past weeks rising painfully to the surface.

* * *

Legolas loosed another arrow towards the target, cursing as it struck a hair shy of where it had been aimed. Legolas fired two more arrows in rapid succession, growling when he heard the sharp sound of splintering wood. He stalked towards the target, pulling the whole arrow from the body of the shattered one. He tossed the broken arrow to the ground, adding its remains to a quickly growing pile of splintered arrows.

"The lord Elrond will not be pleased if you use all his arrows," a gruff voice called to Legolas from the end of the archery range. Legolas did not need to turn to see who it was for the wind gusted and carried the unmistakable scent of pipe weed to his nostrils.

"I knew you would find me eventually," Legolas said tersely as he walked away from the target. He deposited the remaining arrows in his quiver as he spoke, keeping one in his hand. He quickly drew his bow and fired, ignoring the wizard standing beside him. But instead of striking the target, the arrow burst into flames, falling to the ground in a puff of smoke, halfway between Legolas and the target. Legolas turned quickly and glared at the wizard, his ire rising at the innocent expression on the wizards face.

"If you wish to talk to me, you now have my full attention," Legolas said, his voice sharp.

"So you did inherit your father's tone after all. I had hoped better of you," Gandalf said, sitting down upon a bench behind where Legolas stood.

"Do not speak of my father that way!" Legolas snapped. Gandalf merely looked at Legolas with raised brows, puffing smoke from his pipe.

"You must have left just after the battle was won to have been here as long as you have," Gandalf said after blowing a plume of smoke from his mouth. Legolas watched as the smoke took the shape of leaves blowing in the wind. The wizard's tricks did not distract Legolas though, and he looked at Gandalf hotly.

"As soon as I saw that my father and Taur…" Legolas' words stuck in his throat as he tried to utter _her_ name and he swallowed hard. "As soon as I saw they were safe, I left. I could not go back," Legolas finally managed.

"And why is that? Your father might have needed your aid to heal the loss of your peoples," Gandalf countered calmly. Legolas took a deep breath, struggling to form his scattered thoughts into cohesion.

"He did not stop me," Legolas uttered, some of the fire having left his voice. Once the words left his mouth, Legolas instantly felt the yearning for his father's approval upon his heart, searing him like a hot brand. But it paled in comparison to the true reason he left…

"But you intended to leave anyway; I can see that much in your eyes," Gandalf said, drawing Legolas' gaze to his. Legolas suddenly felt words welling in his soul that he had spoken to only one other.

"She chose another. I trained her, watched over her, and she chose to give her heart to that _nogotheg_? A creature who would one day die, and leave her alone? How could she, Gandalf? Could she not see that I cared for her?" Legolas ranted, his voice raising in volume as he spoke. He expected Gandalf's expression to be sympathetic but the wizard's eyes held a small amount of anger.

"Kili was not a _dwarflet_ , as you call him and just as much a prince as you are! He was of a royal house and royal blood and though he was young, his heart was pure and he loved her more rightly than you. If you had truly loved her, you would have stayed and borne her grief. You would have swallowed your selfish pride and would have been her comforter," Gandalf said, fixing his powerful gaze upon Legolas. Legolas' anger flared at Gandalf's accusation but not because it was untrue. The wizard's words rang with truth, and Legolas' pride welled within him to fight against the stinging accusation.

"Father banished her; how could I stay?" Legolas retorted, his mind scrambling to defend against the wizard's attack.

"You are a fool. Instead of speeding her healing from grief with your presence, you sentenced her to grieve alone," Gandalf spat, his words striking Legolas like a blow. Legolas felt his breath leave him and shame doused his anger like water upon a fire. Legolas was at a loss so suddenly, that his mouth opened and closed but made no sound like a fish out of water. Gandalf saw Legolas' expression and he moved over some, allowing the elf to sit next to him.

"You know what I say is true," Gandalf said, this time his voice was tinged with kindness. Legolas barely nodded, feeling like an elfling next to the wizard.

"What should I do?" Legolas finally managed. Gandalf puffed upon his pipe for a few quiet minutes then looked at Legolas. The wizard's eyes were kind now and he studied Legolas carefully.

"Stay here,"

"What?" Legolas asked, shocked. Gandalf smiled, blowing a plume of smoke that turned to the shape of an eagle and flew away.

"Stay here, train Estel. Aid Elladan and Elrohir and the Rangers in the north. There is a shadow growing that seeks to end their line and I feel that you will be a great help in the coming years," Gandalf puffed upon his pipe a little more urgently after these words and a shadow passed over his countenance.

"But… what about Tauriel? Should I not seek her out and beg her forgiveness?" Legolas asked, truly confused by the wizard's words. Gandalf's expression quickly cleared and he smiled slightly, patting Legolas upon the shoulder.

"Though you have wronged her, do not fear for her. I sought her out before we departed; she is to journey to Lothlórien. The Lady Galadriel will welcome her with open arms. She could not seek a better place for healing and rest upon this eastern shore,"

Legolas sat back then, his emotions having gone from one extreme to another so quickly that he was left feeling empty and exhausted. Gandalf rose then without another word and walked away, leaving Legolas alone with his thoughts.

* * *

A/N: Thank you all for your kind reviews, favorites, and follows. I know I covered quite the amount of time in this chapter but such is the nature of this story... if I can say that without giving too much away? Anyways... I hope you all enjoyed this chapter.

It was asked in a review for a previous chapter what age Estel was. By my calculations, he is 10, nearing 11 years old. I know some of my depictions of him may seem a little younger than 10 years old but my reasoning is where he is being raised. I think being raised in an elven haven would certainly keep children innocent and not jaded for a little longer than normal. I Hope that sheds a little light for those wondering on my thought process. :)


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